My Escape : The Guest
by Z0mbiKitty
Summary: After David escapes alive from causing destruction to a family, he travels across the country to try and start fresh. Authorities are still after him at the same time they are trying to keep him a secret. He ends up at a small bar where he meets a girl named Jennifer, who takes to him immediately. What happens when she lets him in her life only to find out he's dangerous?


"..last night the small town was devastated by the destruction due to _one_ man, who victims claim came to their home one day saying he knew their deceased brother. He was more than friendly, weaving himself into their life and even into the hearts of their parents." Jennifer never watched the news. She hated hearing all of the horrible things that they always focused on.

"...puts a new meaning to "kill them with kindness."..don't let a stranger in your home and notify the pol-" she switched the channel with her remote, giggling to herself when she came to a Spanish drama. She had no idea what they were saying, but by the looks of their faces she could tell it was, well, dramatic.

She sighed, turning off the TV completely. She sat on the couch, arm resting with remote in hand and head leaned slightly back on the soft cushion.

"What the hell do I do now?" she asked herself.

Jennifer lived alone in an old, small apartment that always had something wrong with it every other week. She worked at a small bar, living from paycheck to paycheck since she wasn't paid for her worth. She was the only one who worked late, did her job and would come in when they needed an extra pair of hands. Aside from busting her ass, she had to deal with the rude and nasty male customers. Her boss was too afraid to lose business and didn't want to get involved, always stating his motto "every man for himself." Which is nice considering his workers are all female.

She learned to take care of herself there, not allowing men to touch her or biting her tongue when they decide to make an indecent comment to her. She always had to remind herself that these people had shitty lives and tried to drink their problems away, otherwise they'd be somewhere else. Without these drunks she wouldn't have a job.

Yeah, she's applied to other places. They either didn't need work, or found someone with a better set of skills than hers. She gave up and settled for the bar.

She was an average girl, or so she thought. She was pretty to most every guy she came across. Her hair a chocolate brown that went just below her shoulders. Her eyes were a blue, almost grey color that popped when she wore dark makeup. She wasn't tall nor short, and had a nice body.

Today was like any other day for her. The first half she did what she wanted, usually she would sleep past 12 and drag herself around the house until she had to go to work again. She worked long nights, eight or more hours. She had friends, but barely gets to see them since her schedule makes her too tired to do anything.

Mondays were slow, so she had that to look forward to. Her regulars would be there like they are every night, some she hated and some she grew to enjoy the company of. They'd look out for her in their normal drunk manner.

* * *

"Do you ever get tired of doing the same thing every day?" she asked, popping the top of a bottle of cheap beer for one of her regulars. His name was John, and he had a family, a job, a good life from a distance.

"I used to - then I got sucked into it like everybody else. Eventually you grow comfortable," the man explained. You could see the years on his face, the experience in his graying hair. He was only in his mid-40's yet had a world of stories to tell.

"Yeah," she nodded, "yeah, that's the problem, isn't it?" it was more of a statement than a question. He paid and decided to leave after that. She looked up, noticing the door to the bar open, wondering who else she should prepare for. She was taken aback by the unfamiliar face that strolled in. Even the people who came in on a rare occasion looked like they belonged.

He was young, tall and on the thinner side. As he approached her, she saw the stubble on his face and his hair had a messy look to it. He walked with a slight limp, but still stood tall and confident, which she never saw around here.

"What can I get you?" she asked as he sat on the stool that was near the counter.

"Can you make a Fireball?" he asked. His voice flowed smoothly through her ears. It was soothing at the same time mysterious with the hint of a Southern accent.

"Sure," she answered. She was happy to finally make an actual drink instead of continually opening glass bottles.

She turned her back to him, grabbing a bottle of Cinnamon Schnapps and Tabasco sauce at the other end. She mixed the two in a glass, the smell alone suggesting it would have a nice kick. Most people who tried the drink were ignorant young adults with their friends and would end up spitting it out, so she was interested in seeing this guy down it.

"Here you go," she slid the glass in front of him with a smile. He grinned, "thank you."

"So what brings you here?" she asked, not specifying exactly what she meant.

"Just trying to start fresh in a new place," he replied, taking a sip of the red liquid as if it were any other drink.

"I meant, to this bar. I haven't seen you around, but now I know why." She leaned her butt on the mini fridge behind her, crossing her arms in front of her.

"I don't know. Seemed nice." That made her laugh, getting a confused look from the man.

"This place and the word 'nice' don't usually make it in the same sentence," she explained. She sighed, pushing herself up to stand and walking around the counter to serve another customer at a table.

"What can I getcha?" she greeted. The man was clearly hammered out of his mind already, looking at her up and down.

"A bottle of your finest beer, beautiful," he slurred, smiling at her. She made a face and turned to get his drink. She felt a sting on her ass and a loud 'clap' filled her ears. She clenched her jaw and balled her fist, taking a very deep breath in before turning around to confront the man.

"Please keep your hands to yourself," she said, teeth still gritted together. She continued to the counter, grabbing a bottle and bringing it back.

"That'll be six," she said.

"Six?" his voice raised.

"Yes, six," she repeated.

"The bar down the road charges four," he was very emotional, making it a big deal.

"Then go down there and have a drink," she said, not caring about how unhappy he was. Her boss wasn't around to see anyway. He always hid in the back room, doing whatever he wanted.

"To hell I will!" he got up, knocking the chair over. She stood there looking at him like he was crazy. She'd seen men more blown out of their mind than him, but he sure didn't keep it on the down low. She thought he was going to try something, instead making a scene and pushing tables and chairs on his way out.

She shook her head, picking up his chair and going to the next to fix it. She went to pick up another when it lifted, and the Southern man had done it for her. "That isn't necessary," she said.

"Why do you let these people do what they want?" he asked. She stood there, not sure how to answer. Was she going to tell him that she let people walk all over her most of the time because her boss doesn't want to lose business?

"I-I don't know."

"Who runs this place?" he asked.

"Just some guy. He doesn't like to.. _lose_ business," she walked over to the tables, straightening them out.

"So why do you work here?" the famous question. One she asks herself every single day.

"I don't know. Why does it even matter?" she began to get defensive. She knew what was going on, she just hated talking about it.

"I guess it doesn't." He sat back on the stool and finished off his drink. He took out a wad of cash, brushing his thumb on his tongue and pulling out a large bill. He placed it next to the empty glass as he got up, "keep the change."

"W-well, wait a minute. What's your name?" she asked, not wanting him to leave. He was the most decent and pleasurable customer she's ever had, with a good vibe that made her crave more.

He stopped and stood for a moment before turning around, "David."

"Will I see you again?" his face looked to be in deep thought, his brows furrowed and gaze to the floor. "I work tomorrow night. Pretty much every night." He looked at her, straightening himself out, "I'll see you tomorrow then."

* * *

 **This is my second fanfic for the movie The Guest. It's not following the movie though, however it's my own romance story of what happens when he escapes the night Anna and Luke think he dies. I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you thought and if you would like to see more. (:**


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